Almost 20 years ago, I was a snot-nosed sophomore at the University of Iowa.

I was ready to start taking notes in my very first class (I'd already taken a year of college coursework in high school). That's when the history instructor started outlining what was known as the "Classroom Materials Policy," a warning that this course could include sexual content.

I turned to an older student next to me in confusion.

"Homosexuals," he whispered. "This is Iowa."

That was disturbing enough. But when the instructor explained the policy also protected students from "unusual or unexpected" material, my jaw dropped. What exactly did that mean? That could cover just about anything.

At 17, I was enraged that freedom of speech seemed to stop at the college classroom door.

My old T-shirt from the Campaign for Academic Freedom.Susan J. Demas

I soon joined a group, Campaign for Academic Freedom, that argued the policy had a chilling effect on academic discourse. (I would also give a speech at a large campus rally declaring, "Screw the policy!")

Eventually, university officials wised up and scrapped the ridiculous measure. And in 2009, Iowa would become one of the first states to legalize gay marriage, bucking longstanding stereotypes.

Unfortunately, assaults on academic freedom are alive and well. In Michigan, lawmakers are leading the charge.

In an age of perpetual political outrage, politicians have become awfully sensitive. And they seem to believe that they can dictate what's taught in classrooms -- especially in public universities whose budgets receive tax dollars.

The latest example involves Michigan State University, which has offered since last year a program in conjunction with North America's Building Trades Unions. Last month, a Senate panel docked MSU $500,000 if it continues to do so.

Why? Because the university is teaching something Republicans don't like. And they really don't like unions, something clearly shown by ramming through Right to Work in a few days without public hearings.

While Sen. Tonya Schuitmaker (R-Lawton) can protest otherwise, can you honestly imagine the Legislature withholding funding for state universities offering certain business classes?

That's preposterous. Universities have entire schools devoted to that pursuit (MSU's is named for Eli Broad, whose foundation has worked intimately with GOP Gov. Rick Snyder on education reform).

And this isn't the first time the Legislature has tried to penalize a university over labor issues. In 2012, the House went after the University of Michigan for its association with a labor group that butted heads with the powerful Michigan Restaurant Association.

In the last three years, Michigan universities have faced a general trend of increased interference from the Republican-controlled Legislature.

They've had their funding threatened if they offer gay partner benefits, conduct embryonic stem cell research without giving detailed reports or require students to have health insurance.

Republicans say they want to get government off your backs, but they're sure trying to cram it down students' and professors' throats.

Now folks have argued that lawmakers can mind universities' business because they get state tax dollars. That ignores the fact that Michigan's constitution grants our 15 public universities autonomy over their own affairs.

And the state is spending far less on higher education that it has in the past, slashing its support 33 percent from 2008 to 2012. So students are paying higher tuition and are at the mercy of folks with political axes to grind.

Michigan has been known for having one of the finest public university systems in the country. Now our philosophy has been reduced to: less money, more meddling.

You don't need to have an M.B.A. to realize that's a pretty poor tradeoff for students.

Susan J. Demas is Publisher and Editor of Inside Michigan Politics, a nationally acclaimed, biweekly political newsletter. She can be reached at susan@sjdemas.com. Follow her on Twitter here.